


but, the hurt makes it beautiful (beautiful)

by Gabby



Series: before, during, and after (the park) [1]
Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Before Battle, During Canon, F/M, Light Angst, Light Pining, Sweet, Talking, Thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4167309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabby/pseuds/Gabby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire and Owen share a moment alone before he goes out into the jungle with the raptors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but, the hurt makes it beautiful (beautiful)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something that wouldn't leave my head until I put it down. This is my first Claire/Owen (Clawen??) fic and I hope you guys are fair with me. I've had this prompt in mind since watching the movie for the first time (like, during the actual viewing of the movie...) and also now more recently after seeing it again for the second time (still awesome, more awesome than the first time, the things you pick up are just *makes explosion sound*) and I had this idea for an alone moment between our favorite pairing before the shit hits more fan.
> 
> 'Cause, to me, I read a lot into that little smile that Claire has after Zach calls her _boyfriend_ a badass. Not to mention, the clear worry she had in that truck, clutching that tablet. And also, yeah, she seemed more than comfortable with the fact that Owen essentially, lightly, implicitly, offered up a relationship after the melee and she just smiles and is like _'okay, that sounds swell'_. 
> 
> Or maybe I'm reading too much into this. I don't know. Just read!

It takes a minute but, she eventually finds him in the weapons room, polishing off a rifle carefully with a cloth. Her heart thudding dreadfully at the thought that it might not work. Might not be enough to keep him safe out there.

She doesn't know.

Everything's... gone.

Everything's fallen apart. To a million pieces she may never get back together again and she just...

She can't lose one _more_ thing.

 _It's not fair._ She thinks, gazing at the strong line of his back. The broad shoulders shifting and moving under his shirt that had almost always made her lose her train of thought, despite herself. _It wouldn't be right._

It wouldn't be right to let this man - this courageous, brave, brazen man who _frustrates_ her endlessly yet also manages to make her stomach swoop low even if he doesn't know it - go out there and risk his life like this.

Because if he died...

He's just soo much _more_ than she thought he'd be.

She'd like him before - well, now, likes him _more_ but - and that had been why she'd become so brittle about that one failed date. Why her constant ( _unapologetic_ , mind you) need to plan had evolved into setting an itinerary for the night.

Because she'd liked him. He'd been and still is nothing like the men she normally went out with and she had actually liked that.

So, one day, after many months of having worked with him (having that knowledge that he _maybe_ showed off when she's there or _maybe_ his eyes lingered on her legs when she walked away from him), he had given her his most charming smile and asked her out and she had, after a moment of indecision, said yes.

Because even though, to anybody else, it hadn't seemed like it, she had really wanted to go on a date with him.

He'd been so... funny and sexy and boisterous. Grabbing her attention even when she hadn't wanted it to be so that she'd just given up and thought _maybe_.

And dammit, she had wanted it to work out so much that she'd made the itinerary.

'Cause she'd wanted to spend time with him. And she had been nervous and awkward and not knowing what exactly to do-

She hates admitting all this. Even now, after everything. After finding out he's not the ass she had thought he was and the rescue and the kiss-

She must make a noise of sort when she unconsciously steps forward because Owen stops what he's doing and turns around to see her standing there. "Hey."

He seems genuinely surprised and she's awful grateful that he hadn't pointed that rifle at her. 

Speaking of which, he puts the thing aside and asks. "What are you doing here?"

"I..." She can't get the words out. Can't tell him how worried (worried _sick_ ) she is about this whole thing. This thing that could get him killed.

And she has no idea how to tell him how much she _doesn't_ want that.

Nor how he'd be missed if he does... If something does go wrong...

(She's most certainly _never_ gonna say that. Owen Grady will _not_ die. Not if she has anything to do with it.)

"I just..." She stumbles again and knows he notices this time because he's up on his feet and stepping forward a bit. Brow knitted in concern.

"What's going on?" He asks and her chest tightens as he looks her over, as if to search for something that's aggrieved her.

Goddammit, this is hard. How will she do this?

"Claire. Hey." He's suddenly closer - _much_ , much closer - and her breath hitches at the proximity. The odd smell of gasoline and jungle doing things to her insides she could hardly name. "It's fine. I'm gonna keep everyone safe. The men out there. The boys-"

"And yourself." She's able to let out and suddenly, something inside her eases and it becomes unexpectedly, _there_. Now, she's got it.

He starts at her interruption. Those mesmerizing green eyes the highlight of his handsome face. The same face she wants to see again and breathing and alive-

"What?"

"Make sure to bring yourself back safely, too." She utters, feeling the burn behind her eyes and damn, this isn't the time. "I... Just don't... Come back alive, please."

"Claire-"

"You were right." She says over his use of her name, her heart pounding painfully. "About the Indominus. About all of it. But, I just... you, _we_ , were wrong about one thing specifically... and I just wanted to..." She blows out a breath, impatient with herself. "I wanted to... If you... You wouldn't be able to see it through..."

"Claire-"

"I'm not good at this." She blurts out. "I might not even have a job tomorrow. It's all I've ever had. And now..." _Now, I have you._ She almost says. _Now, I might have you if you'll have me, too_. "I just want something for myself for once." She adds softly, the perfect phrase finally flowing out of her. Gazing into those eyes. "Except for my job, I haven't had anything that's been mine... and now, I might have something that I want _more_. I finally have something that I want more than anything for myself and so, you _have to_ come back alive."

He stares at her with this gaze and she hopes he understands. Hopes he gets the words she can't say right now.

He's not gonna die. She'll tell him later.

His eyes are darker than anything and he takes another step closer and god, she doesn't know if she's waiting for him to kiss her again or is gonna tell him not to.

Before she can make up her mind, though, he's stepping away and she breathes.

"Okay." He says finally after a long moment of peering at her with a very keen look in his eyes.

"Okay?"

"Okay. I'll come back." He elaborates seriously and she really hopes, honestly. "I will bring myself back safely."

 _"Oh."_ She says as he locks her into his stare again. Breathless. Heart hammering. "Alright."

He nods solemnly. "Alright."

She starts to leave before she can say more to embarrass herself this time and stops when he calls out to her and she turns back around. "Yes?"

"We're finishing this conversation once I get out of this alive." He warns lightly in only the way he can. Head tilted slightly. Eyes gleaming.

She can hardly keep herself from smiling. A little. "Looking forward to it."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Remember be constructive and kind, okay? I won't tolerate anything else. This was my first OwenxClaire and I don't need that particular shattering of confidence.


End file.
